


There's a Light On in Chicago

by rivlee



Series: The Open Road [2]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 20:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: Hoosier and Runner's road trip finally takes them to Chicago.





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re not suggesting any roadside distractions this time,” Runner Conley said to his friend and road trip companion, Hoosier Smith.

Hoosier remained silent as he drove down the highway, trees and green information signs flashing by.

Runner felt a twitch starting in his hands, joining his already bouncing knee, and tried to tell his body to calm the fuck down. His whole jittery act was why he was in the passenger seat right now. After the third straight swerve, he’d given up on Jesus and let Hoosier take the wheel. He was just too damn nervous to drive and Hoosier could make the trip to Chicago in his sleep. Runner clenched and unclenched his hands as Nick Jonas crooned over the radio about being jealous. He felt like he was going to puke. What were they _doing_? What was _he_ supposed to do? March into Lew’s place and demand an explanation? Let Hoosier defend his honor? Just say fuck it all and eat his feelings in cheddar cheese popcorn at Garrett’s?

“Fuck,” Runner said and reached for his phone.

“Nope,” Hoos said as he plucked it out of Runner’s hands. “No trying to avoid the problem anymore. That’s how you both got into this mess in the first fucking place. We spent a week at my parents’ farm. You worked out your frustration on the hay bales. I wore a cowboy hat and boots and took your tiny ass dancing. There was pie and confessions and too much to drink. Now it’s time to get shit done. You have four days of your vacation left and you _will_ spend them in Chicago.”

“I have to take at least a day and a half to drive home.”

Hoosier reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and tossed it into Runner’s lap. He unfolded it to find a plane ticket, departing O’Hare at 7:00pm on Sunday. 

“Oh fuck you,” Runner said. 

Hoosier smirked at him and hit his turn signal, weaving into the exit lane with ease. 

Runner would’ve cursed him out, but he’d been raised to show the song _More Than a Feeling_ the proper respect it deserved whenever it came on the radio. He hoped Hoosier appreciated just how lucky he was this time.

*********

Chicago traffic wasn’t as horrifying as Runner remembered. He thought it would’ve easily taken them an hour to get from their exit to Chuckler’s apartment building. By some miracle or curse it only took around twenty minutes.

They parked in a daily lot just in case it all went to hell. The walk to Lew’s apartment felt ominous with the wind coming off the river and Hoosier’s wall of silence. Runner had a white-knuckle clutch on the small bag full of the shit they’d bought for Lew at all those little stops between Buffalo and Indiana. 

No matter what—no matter how hard and awkward things were right now—they were still friends. They’d been through hell together. They’d always be a part of each other’s lives no matter how today turned out. And you didn’t show up to your bro’s house without a gift of some kind, be it a twelve pack of beer or Superman memorabilia. 

Runner stopped at the apartment building’s entrance. He had the security code to get in, had learned and memorized it years ago. Considering it was his own birthday it was a pretty damn easy thing to remember. He never tried to read too much into it; why out of all the combination of numbers in the world Chuckler choose that one. Runner stared down at the keypad before him and tried to tell his hands to stop shaking. All he had to do was punch the code in, open the door, and take the elevator up to the fifteenth floor. He had a key; he’d always had a key. He hoped it wouldn’t be time to give it back.

“Stop thinking like that,” Hoosier said. “I don’t need to hear what’s in your head right now to know it’s bullshit.”

Runner took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing pulse. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Runner laughed and relaxed a little. “Okay, Professor.”

Hoosier just shrugged, apparently not in the mood to battle it out. “You want me up there?” he asked.

“Hell yes,” Runner said. Hoosier would be the neutral ground.

“You need me up there?” Hoosier asked. 

“No,” Runner admitted. 

Hoosier nodded. “I’ll stay down here. Take a walk. See the sites. Maybe go look at that stupid silver bean thing. I think you two have had enough distractions.”

“Yeah,” Runner said. He still couldn’t get his feet to move.

Hoosier pulled him into a quick hug. 

“Look, I’ll be right outside. You know, if you need to kick his ass off the balcony or anything.”

Runner laughed. “Lew’s twice my size.”

Hoosier squeezed his shoulder before stepping back. “I have faith in you, Scrappy-Doo.”

**********

Lew’s apartment door was just as Runner remembered it. His doormat was a beige and black thing that said, _Hi, I’m Mat_. There was a wreath full of fabric summer flowers hanging under the peephole. Mrs. Juergens made a whole series of those wreaths and sold them at craft shows. Lew had always been so proud of his mother and had given each of them a set of her seasonal wreaths. There was one hanging on the Conley’s back door at this very moment.

Runner shifted the plastic bag full of gifts to his other hand and knocked, hesitantly at first, and then steadier once he had a second to laugh at himself. 

It was Lew, after all. No matter what, he’d open the door. 

On the other side Runner could hear the sound of an over six-foot tall man stumbling and cursing as he clearly fell into the door. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to not openly laugh. It was good to know that Lew still had absolutely no grace. 

“Sorry-sorry-yes, I’m here,” Lew said as he threw open the door. He looked down and froze, eyes gone wide and jaw dropped. 

“Hi,” Runner said. 

“Your hair,” Lew blurted.

As the first significant piece of conversation they were supposed to be having, Runner didn’t quite know if this was a good or bad start. He reached a hand up to tug on the longer strands. 

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “My barber sort of retired.”

“Oh, not Joe?” Lew asked, because of course he remembered Runner singing the praises of his barber. “Isn’t he pretty young for retirement?”

“He’s gone back to driving cabs,” Runner said. “Said he could better handle the clientele. So I haven’t found another one I trust yet and decided it was time to let it grow out. I don’t need a regulation cut anymore.”

“Well, it looks great,” Lew said, standard easy smile spreading across his face. “I mean, I knew it was getting longer, I just didn’t realize how much. It’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks,” Runner said.

Lew nodded, that lazy smile still on his face, and then froze again. “Shit,” he said and backed up. “Come in, please. I’m sorry.”

It was nice to know Lew was acting as nervous as Runner felt. It gave Runner some hope, a lot more than if Lew had acted like everything was normal between them. 

Inside the wooden floors gleamed and the apartment smelled like fresh citrus. Lew was a compulsive cleaner when he got nervous and the signs were there in the perfectly aligned row of shoes by the door and the coffee table clear of everything but remotes and video game controllers. The curtains were pulled back, showing a gorgeous view of the river, and it someone calmed Runner to see the open space of the city and the water.

He looked down and toed his shoes off, putting them in line with Chuckler’s own, and smiled at the difference of Chuckler’s pristine Jordans next to his own battered Converse. 

Chuckler was in the kitchen, rambling off a list of possible drink options and pulling out an actual deli platter and a container of his mother’s brownies. His face was scrunched up and worried as his mouth ran a mile a minute and it made Runner’s heart jump with how much he really did love the fucking idiot. His thoughts strayed to the idea of the actual leaps of faith and of Hoosier downstairs full of new hope and belief in whatever was to come would be okay like he’d swallowed the _The Little Book of Calm_.

Runner put down his bag of gifts. He set his shoulders and walked over to Lew. He reached up and put a hand over his mouth.

“I need you to shut up for a minute. Can you do that?”

Lew nodded. 

“Okay. Good,” Runner said. He took a deep breath and started. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for so long I can’t even remember when it started and at this point I don't know how to _not_ be in love with you. I thought you just wanted a quick fuck after the party, when you did that whole leaving thing. Kind of broke my heart there, bud.” He shook his head as Lew tried to talk. “I realized I fucked up too, but not telling you then I wanted more, by not telling you after, but I’m here now and I’m telling you now. So?”

He took his hand off Lew’s mouth and waited. 

Lew leaned down, those strong shoulders hunching as he came closer to Runner’s height. His large hands cradled the back of Runner’s neck, ran under the length of his hair to the bare skin below, and tilted Runner’s chin up. When he kissed him it was soft and sweet and so full of love Runner’s knees almost fucking buckled.

Lew pulled back, a soft kiss to Runner’s forehead before he left, and then straightened up. 

“I love you too. I’m sorry I was an asshole. I missed you like hell.” He smiled. “Now will you give me a fucking hug? Jesus.”

Runner laughed, let himself be pulled into Lew's arm, settled against his strong chest, let himself bask in the scent of Tide and cologne and Lew. 

They still had a hell of an actual long talk ahead, but this was a good start, and he couldn’t wait for what came next.


	2. Chapter 2

Hoosier knew, or hoped, he’d be crashing at Bethany’s tonight, so he took the time to wander the city in order to find her some kind of shiny bribe. She liked crystals and he remembered a shop that sold all kinds not far from Chuckler’s apartment. It wasn’t a long walk and it would give him something to do while he nervously waited for Runner to contact him. 

He really didn’t want to kick Lew’s ass today, but he’d do it for Runner. 

His shopping trip didn’t take nearly as long as he expected and by the time he’d gotten back to his car and dropped off his bags, Runner still hadn’t texted him. Hoosier didn’t know what else to do but wait, so he walked to a nearby park and got cozy on a bench. 

He was halfway through his next level of Candy Crush when he heard a snick of a lighter and turned to give the asshole trying to smoke next to him a piece of his mind. He nearly fell off his bench when he found one Robert Leckie beside him.

Bob gave him that damn crooked grin before he took a drag of his cigarette and blew a perfect smoke ring Hoosier’s way. He looked worn down and yet hotter than hell, just the way Bob always could. He wasn’t in his worn old Professor Leckie blazer this time, the one with the elbow patches, but wore a soft white henley with a collar so wide, Hoosier could see the his collarbone. It made him want to lean forward and _bite_.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked instead.

“Moral support in case you tried to murder Chuckler,” Bob said before he took another drag.

“For me, Runner, or Chuckler?”

Bob shrugged and blew out a line of smoke. “I still haven’t decided yet.”

“Smoking kills, you know,” Hoosier said.

He laughed, that half-mad sound Hoosier had missed and gotten off to more than once in his daydreams. “Don’t make me blow this in your face again, you sanctimonious brat.”

“Look at the big man with his three dollar words,” Hoosier said. It was better than asking Bob what the hell he was doing smoking again. Leckie had tried so hard to quit. It was one of the things Vera wanted him to do before they got married. Hoosier figured this was some form of post-break-up rebellion or the result of too much time around his parents or a combination of both. 

“You’re going to quit again,” Hoosier declared. 

“I’m sure you’re going to make me try,” Leckie said. He crushed out his cigarette on the heel of his shoe. “So, Mr. Wizard, your plan got those two this far. What’s next?”

“I figured I’d leave them to it,” Hoosier said.

Leckie laughed. “Because that worked so well the last time. They need romance. We should help them.”

Hoosier busted out laughing. “Romance? You?”

Leckie narrowed his eyes and then moved uncomfortably close to Hoosier. He put a hand over Hoosier’s mouth until the laughter stopped. His skin tasted like smoke and tobacco and nicotine. Leckie leaned closer, close enough to share the same breath with Hoosier.

“Bill,” he drawled, lips next to Hoosier’s ear, “shut up.”

There were times over the years when Hoosier truly hated Bob. Hated that Bob knew how he felt about him and toyed with him. Hated himself for letting Robert Leckie have such a pull over him. Hated moments like this that were just a tease of what could have been or what might be, but what definitely wasn’t _now_.

Hoosier stood up and put distance between them again. He forced his hands to stay at his side, not to rub at his ear where he could still feel the heat of Leckie’s breath on his skin. His phone vibrated in his pocket and smiled to himself as he got the all-clear from Runner. It was time to get the hell out of here, at least for the night.

“I think I’m going to go see Bethany,” he said. He kept his eyes to the ground. “She owes me a lunch or two. Big brother’s rights and all that shit.”

He stepped further away and put his phone to his ear, gripping it tight and taking a moment to pull his shit together. 

“Hoosier,” Leckie said. 

Hoosier finally lifted his head and met Bob’s gaze. There was guilt there, in Bob’s eyes, but that was the thing about Robert Leckie. He always had something guilty lurking inside him, always bearing the weight of living a little harder than everyone else. The result of a kid who was raised to feel like a burden and who truly wanted nothing more than to be loved—or at the very least remembered. 

“It’s fine, Bob,” Hoosier said. He forced himself to smile. “Want to come with?” 

“I—sure,” Leckie said. “I’d like that.” 

Hoosier could honestly say he hated the curly-haired bastard in that moment, daring to look at Hoosier like he’d given him some kind of gift. Because Bob made Hoosier weak in so many ways and Hoosier kept letting him do that. And he didn’t know how to stop and he couldn’t imagine his life without it. If he was on both the literal and proverbial road to New Beginnings, Bob Leckie would remain the ditch he just couldn’t help but keep running into. 

Now wasn’t the time for him, or them, or this bullshit. Now was the time to hope their two best friends sorted their shit out for good and to get Bethany to pay for an overpriced lunch in a too fancy restaurant. 

Tomorrow? Maybe then Hoosier could attempt to take on Bob Leckie and his Bullshit, but not until he’d had at least two meals and a full night of sleep.

“Don’t suppose Bethany can provide a poor Jersey boy room and board too?” Bob asked.

Hoosier didn’t bother to stop his eye roll. “You’re really a piece of work, Bobert.” He sighed. “Get your ass up, like I’m going to let you sleep on the streets. Text Chuckler and tell him where you are so he doesn’t send out a search party.”

For once Bob did as he was told with little argument. He was quiet on the walk to Hoosier’s car. He didn’t say anything until he had to pull the passenger seat back to climb in.

“Seriously, how did that tiny fucker even get into the Marines?”

“Someone needed to meet their quota,” Hoosier said.

As The Wallflowers _One Headlight_ started to play, Hoosier grinned to himself as he pulled out into the street and heard Bob’s soft voice singing along. Bob sure as hell wasn't the one he'd started this road trip with, but Hoosier had a feeling he'd be leaving Chicago with Robert Leckie at his side.


End file.
